No Place
by Magentian
Summary: A gambler by profession, friends with street dancers and prostitutes, Cardsharp is no hero. However, in every drama, there are those who play a part... simply because they have no place else to turn to.
1. Chapter 0: Notes

**Author's Note.** Hello and welcome, all! Why are you reading a boring foreword instead of a story? Well, as there are really very few spaces to describe the content this story is plotted to have, for the safety of my own ass I must slap a few warning labels on this fic. Please read this before tackling the first chapter, and thanks for coming!

**Disclaimer. **This applies to all chapters within this fanfic. This is a nonprofit endeavor. I'm not asserting that I own anything. Fortunately for me and you, I don't own the Zelda franchise, Nintendo, or any affiliated companies. I have no rights to any characters except those which I've made up - and it should be fairly obvious which ones those are.

**Warnings.** Okay, here's the important stuff. This story is going to have shounen-ai in later chapters. For those of you who are young and innocent (oh, those were the days…), this means guys liking other guys… so if that's not your cup of tea and you don't think you can stomach it, that's too bad, and you had probably better look elsewhere. Specific pairings which this fic will deal with… well, you'll just have to stay tuned on that one.

**Setting. **This will be explained later anyhow, but I feel the need to clarify this now, just to be perfectly clear, and also because the first chapter sounds nearly nothing like Zelda. This is an A/U, set seven years after the fall of Ganondorf. Instead of choosing to relive his lost childhood, Link stayed within his adult body. Since then, Hyrule has been changing, particularly around the castle - the castle town has swelled to resemble a metropolis. The rest should be sufficiently covered in the story - if you have any more questions, you're welcome to put them in a review!


	2. Chapter 1: Smoke and Mirror

He lifted the cigarette gently to his lips and lit it, with the evident dexterity of one either very skilled with his fingers or very unused to smoking. A slight inhalation at one end, and a moment later he was off again, exhausting faint plumes from his delicate lips as he lifted his cards from the table. "Come on, man, you think I'm done with you? Hit me again. Make it a good one this time."

The dealer scowled. He couldn't figure this kid out on a sober brain, let alone after an exhausting shift like this one. Reluctantly, he plucked a card and tossed it onto the fair stack the cardsharp had already accumulated: a two, a five, an eight, and a four, their black and red markings staring stonily up at him. The dealer glanced at the card as the kid picked it up, then smirked, warm inner triumph filling him like so many beers. An ace. Surely he was out by now. He studied the kid, waiting for a reaction.

A smile faint as static twitched his lips, but, between the strands of platinum hair, the player's dark eyes gave away nothing but a certain cynicality in regard to the surroundings their black depths reflected. He had worn that same expression six hundred rupees in winnings ago, and it hadn't changed a second in the time between.

"Standing," the player chuckled softly, casting his ace down, too, face-up, and leaning back to take another drag on his cigarette. The dealer flushed with annoyance, then looked downward. A hand of twenty, and now it was down to the hidden 'hole' card… surely, _surely_ he had won this round? Tremblingly, he reached out to flip the card, suddenly acutely aware of the thin, wobbling coin stacks piled in the kitty as he brushed passed them. Why on earth had he matched this bet? He turned the card, then slammed his fist onto the table. The entire seedy place turned around to look as he stood up and pointed to the uncovered hole card.

An ace.

"_This…_" The dealer's finger was trembling, too, with rage this time; his voice shrilled in desperation, his bloodshot eyes popping. "The single, the _only_ card in the entire Din-damned deck that could possibly let you get away with a hand like that. This… is ridiculous! This is… blatant - I don't know where the… you… I don't understand it, but this is just fucking impossible! Now tell me how you're cheating so I can bust your ass!" Sweat poured from him as from a lathered horse; the entire table was shaking with the jerk and pull of his incensed lungs.

The cardsharp stood up, a bit weakly. "I don't cheat," he said simply. His eyes darted, rabbit-like, to the cards on the table.

"Nobody can count cards and get those odds," sneered the dealer, and he shook his head, as though further angering himself with his own clumsy statements. "You - bastards like you are a disgrace to gambling! You don't deserve to - to…!" The dealer shook his head again, his mounting rage relieving him of the burden of communication, and flipped the table over, cards and money scattering to the floor. The table crashed into the bar; one of the two splintered on contact, sending wood chips and cockroaches flying. Other patrons jeered and catcalled from a safe distance; a few tried to take wagers, but none held out for the young gambler. He was only about twenty, after all, and far too scrawny to hold out hope for.

"This _joint_ is a disgrace to gambling," retorted the young man, straightening a little. Somehow the cards and the cash had both wound up in his hands. "I didn't do anything illegal, and I wasn't cheating. If you can't handle losing like a man, I swear I'm calling the cops and telling them all about this place."

The man laughed, hard. "What in Hell makes you think that you'll ever be in the condition to speak again once I get done with you?" His eyes were glinting; the cardsharp had a few precious seconds to squander on thinking that he had never realized how piggish and mean the man looked, and to wonder how many drinks he had persuaded him to have, anyhow, before the dealer lunged forward, fists swinging.

"Damn!" the gambler cursed aloud as he turned and bolted. _Should have listened when they told me the dealers were bouncers here!_ Nearly to the door, his shoes sliding on the slick tiles with his haste, he was jerked back suddenly, and let out a yelp of pain. The bouncer had grabbed him by his hair; his firm fingers were crushing as they closed around his shoulder. His ponytail was released, and just as quickly the spindly gambler was turned around so quickly he was almost lifted off his feel before he was slammed against the wall, pinned by the crushing weight of the larger man's arms.

The cardsharp winced, then looked the man in the eye. His sardonic stare was now full-powered. In a face made for mellowness, it only warranted another burst of laughter from the dealer. Still chuckling unstoppably, the man let loose one shoulder to slam the gambler in the eye, snapping his skull against the wall, his laughter redoubling so that he could barely stand.

And, suddenly, the bouncer couldn't stand. He staggered, then fell to the floor. The cardsharp nearly fell atop him; through his good eye, he could just scarcely discern that everyone in the bar was staring at him. Feeling the warm, ruddy moisture coursing down his cheek in sticky rivulets, he chuckled weakly at the rapt onlookers, bending quickly to pick up the ace of spades, which had fallen. Then he straightened against the wall, leaned sideways, and pushed the door open, exiting as quickly as he was able.

He left nothing save chaos, and the dealer's still body, and, unnoticed to those who rushed to see to his opponent, the glowing red coal of the cigarette's ash, quickly ground to a powder on the floor.


	3. Chapter 2: Cloak and Dagger

The boy's desperate flight from the seedy establishment took him on a whirlwind tour of the city's back allies – dank corners and locked doors, the occasional bewildered bum, the whole dismal tableau halfway blurred through his damaged vision. He pressed a hand to his face, to find that the flow of fluid wasn't stopping as quickly as he had hoped. Desperate, he slumped against the cold stone wall, rummaging in his pocket for some relief from the throbbing pain. His hand bumped the deck, and he drew it out quickly, adding the ace which he had dropped and shuffling quickly.

"C'mon, c'mon…!" he muttered, and, when things felt right, he drew. A soft exhalation of breath escaped him. Hearts, and a nine, no less. He tossed the card upwards, and pressed a hand to his injured eye. The trickle of blood slowed, then stopped. Probing around his eye, the cardsharp winced as he felt the traces of a bruise, which would probably linger for some time, but at least his eye was now intact and functional.

"Always a good thing," he thought. Bending to pick up the card he had dropped, he stopped suddenly. And stayed stopped, staring straight ahead.

What under the Goddesses was a HOOKER doing in Hyrule?

Certainly nothing she'd get away with, he reflected somewhat ruefully. She was wearing the most outlandish attire – tall, knee-high boots with more buckles than could possibly be practical, black fishnet stockings, and black bangles strung with dark ribbons and attached to some sort of demonic-looking leather bustier. Yet her expression wasn't one of shame, and seemed to have nothing to do with the BDSM look that so set her apart from the crowd bustling about Hyrule City's marketplace.

Most of all, what differentiated her from the crowd was the upright, regal posture of this odd streetwalker, the look of utter pride and scorn upon her face. Far from one who took pride in sensuality, she seemed to have risen utterly above it. It seemed to him that there was no way she could possibly earn a livelihood – he couldn't imagine a man who would dare to insult her all-too-apparent dignity by expressing the desire to possess what goods she peddled.

And, now that the initial shock of her appearance had worn off, yet another unique trait of this all-too-strange woman had made itself known to his repaired eyesight: her skin was dark. Not tan, certainly, but not the typical Hylian pallor he, himself, shared with the teeming population in the city streets - her skin was the color of caramels, suddenly bringing back memories of long ago…

He shook his head, picked up the card, and, replacing it, tucked the deck safely back into his pocket. It was a shame, but he allowed himself to go no further with the thought. Like her, he was a criminal to society, and so to pause and allow himself to reflect on the despoilment of her Goddess-given gifts was not a luxury he could afford. He stepped reluctantly out of the back alley and started across the square; mind still elsewhere, his eyes sojourned to her again, and again he stopped.

A man was following her, a strange expression contorting his face.

'A Ubiquitous,' was his first thought, but then he amended it – perhaps it was one of the woman's customers? But that was strange – customers usually didn't pursue the same whore time after time, in his limited experience, and something in the man's manner was much more alarming than mere lust. The hooker was still striding calmly along, the back of her head arrogant and utterly oblivious to the man fighting through crowds to reach her. Something had to be done.

He squinted at the man, then shuffled the cards within his pocket and drew, peeking downwards. Staring back at him was the king of spades.

"Dammit…!" His worst suspicions confirmed, the cardsharp stuffed this card into his pocket, then took off running. If the cards had not lied – and he had never known them to lie – what this man was contemplating was nothing short of murder.

As ever, the marketplace of Hyrule City had a bustling atmosphere. Gone, however, were the quaint stalls surrounding the village fountain, which had been so commonplace in days of old. After Ganon destroyed the Castle Town, after Link destroyed Ganon, but, more than ever, after both Link and Queen Zelda had mysteriously disappeared four years ago, the city had quickly established itself upon the wreckage of the world which had come before.

Carpenters and laborers, nobles and rich men seeking to become the new heads of state, and all the various races looking to monopolize in the wake of disaster formed a new and intricate hierarchy, one which all of Hyrule was quite unfamiliar with. The sprawl of suburbs had reached nearly to Lon Lon Ranch, and was still spilling over into new developments. Competing firms and companies built buildings and towers ever higher, seeking desperately to find some way to outdo one another. Even the castle had undergone renovations several times, each time by several different designers, so that it had a new and rather lopsided grandiosity which had previously been missing.

And, in the crowded marketplace, the newfound ideals of the teeming metropolis established themselves better, perhaps, than in any other place. Here, bigger and better fruit stands, clothes racks, and crowds reigned supreme, an impressive testament to the booming economy of Hyrule. And an annoying hindrance to the cardsharp's progress on catching up to the prostitute and her malicious pursuer.

He stopped, leaned up against a stand, panting. "Okay… I'm definitely not 'born to run' or anything…" he wheezed. The young man wracked his brains on what to do, trying to ignore the hysterics of the man whose stand he was leaning upon. At last, his eyes lit up, and he raced after the two with new enthusiasm, yelling.

"Thief! Stop him, stop him - THIEF!" he bellowed as loud as he could. This caught the crowd's attention. He was still too far away… well, it only made his ploy more plausible. "That one, in the blue… thief!"

At last, 'that one, in the blue,' caught wind of what the cardsharp was shouting. He turned indignantly. The young man smirked as he saw the whore, turning to behold her good fortune, racing toward a back alley unobserved. But he had the crowd's attention - he had better act fast.

And, once again, his face lit, this time in amazement. This would be easier than he thought.

"You owe me money, you stupid prick!" he said with sincere astonishment and irritation. "Yes, I mean you, don't look at me like that! I beat you fair and square two nights ago, and I counted my money afterwards… you stole half the pot without my noticing!"

The man's face, which had been mottled with annoyance, now was mysteriously drained of color. Unfortunately, he pulled himself together faster than the cardsharp had expected.

"Gambling, then, were you?" he asked, with a smile that could not possibly be good. "By Nayru… and the admission of it from your own mouth, too. Don't you think before you speak? Perhaps it was my first time there, perhaps I was there for quite a different reason than engaging in your base trade… and perhaps you only got what was coming to you, for flying in the face of the Goddesses' commands…"

The young man blanched. Like silent white wings, a fair crowd was drawing closer around the two, and with them, no doubt, the Ubiquitous. He was a horrible liar, too, he thought vaguely amidst a haze of alibis. He looked around hopefully for some member of the crowd to break up the fight, but evidently they were quite eager to see what would happen. Cursing his bad luck and the whore that he'd defended, he shut his eyes and thought hard of what he was going to say.

"You should know… theft is forbidden by the Goddesses, too, you crook, and just because you gambled to punish what you saw as wrongdoing doesn't take the sin away from your soul, either!" The cardsharp took an aggressive step towards the man, and, at last, heard the telltale shouts of the Hyrulian Guard behind him. He smiled, then reached into his own pocket and threw out his winnings from the latest set of games. Before the crowd could react, he plunged into it and ran, hoping for luck.

As usual, his prayers were answered. The Guard, drawn by the shouting and by the crowd's scuffle over grabbing the money he had dropped, completely ignored him, and nobody in the crowd seemed to care much either. Dusting himself off and breathing a long sigh of relief, he congratulated himself mentally, then set about looking for the prostitute. He had no idea where the man had gone to, and somehow, he wasn't sure he wouldn't try to follow her again. He sought the alley he had seen her turn into, and entered it.

To his surprise, it was utterly empty. An enormous dumpster lay at the far end of the alley, as well as piles upon piles of trash cans in disarray. There were no doors, no fire escapes, no windows. As he headed cautiously down it, an old crow sitting on the dumpster eyed him beadily, but it was clearly the only living thing around.

"Funny… I didn't see her leave…" he muttered to himself, confused. He cast an amused glance at the crow. "It was _you,_ wasn't it? You ate her, eh?"

He shrugged, then turned to leave. A loud flapping noise distracted him as the crow, perhaps disturbed by his sudden movement, lifted off behind him. Idly, he looked up at it. It circled a few times, building up altitude, he supposed, and then flew straight ahead of him. It soared to the end of the alleyway, then turned to follow the street.

The cardsharp blinked. Somehow, he hadn't thought crows followed the roads like that…

He shrugged, shaking his head uneasily, and headed down the alley himself. Chancing to look up, he saw a sight which nearly gave him a heart attack.

The sinister man was back. He, too, had been tracking the crow as it flew over the rooftops. As he watched it soar down the main thoroughfare, he looked back at the dumpster, and the young man standing numbly in the entrance to the alleyway, and smiled - but that was all he needed to do to give the cardsharp the absolute unholy creeps. _No human being_, he thought over the pounding of his heart in his ears, _should be equipped with a smile like that._

And, as the tide of people flowed around him, the man quite simply disappeared.


	4. Chapter 3: Pride and Prejudice

The cardsharp was shaking with fright by the time he made it out into the street. Where had the man gone, and how had he disappeared like that? He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the jittery feeling that had come from escaping near disaster yet again. If the Guard had caught him, if that crowd hadn't been quite so distracted by the wealth he had thrown…

"Maybe my life's a little too adventurous," he said to himself, sighing. Then he remembered the crow. Looking skyward, he saw it turn at an intersection and coast over an office building, landing behind it. And he was off again, following its path, darting through back alleys he knew like the spread of his deck. He had something of an idea what would be awaiting him behind that building… or, rather, who.

And he was right. As he turned the corner, the whore stood up, as though taken by surprise.

"What the -- what are you doing here!" she asked in consternation, her eyes white with fear.

The cardsharp chuckled, feeling a little guilty. "Relax," he said reassuringly. "You don't have to be so startled -- I chased him away."

"Chased _who_ away, exactly?" the prostitute asked, her eyes narrowing in her dark face.

He stared. "The Ubiquitous guy, of course!"

She stared right back. "I have no idea who you're talking about. Are you here for a reason, or are you just gaping? That doesn't come cheap, you know."

"You're … look, I can tell when people are playing dumb with me. You knew full well that guy was after you. That's why you went for the back alley. Just how long have you been in this city, anyhow?" The young man's brow furrowed. The girl had a slight accent which he couldn't quite identify. Surely she wasn't that new to the city. But then… why had she gone and used what could only be some kind of magic? She had to have known she would have been caught.

Something about the girl made her look very dangerous indeed as she strode slowly down the alley, closing the distance between them. "If I told you how long I've been here, I would have to kill you. Now, I'm gonna ask you for the last time… are you here for a lay, or are you just wasting my time?"

He coughed. Somehow, he hadn't thought she would be so blunt about it. Sighing, he wondered where to begin.

"No, I don't want to lay you," he started, but she silenced him with a motion.

"Then leave me alone and go your own way. Just because you chased some creep off doesn't mean you get any freebies." She folded her arms and appeared to be willing him to move along. He sighed again and shook his head.

"You don't seem to understand," he said. "I'm not here to buy… you… and I'm not here to brag about what I did. But I saw you turn into a crow and fl--"

He stopped there because she had suddenly scurried behind him and clapped her hand over his mouth. "Don't say another _word_," she menaced, and he acquiesced. She let go of him, and he turned as she slowly drew away from him. "If you want to talk to me that badly," she said bluntly, stubbornness in her eyes, "then let's get off the streets to do it. The walls have ears, you know."

The cardsharp glanced toward the dumpsters, but there was nothing and no one in the alleyway but them. Still, he saw her point. "'Kay," he said, and took to the streets, aware of her presence behind him as she followed.

Soon a likely place presented itself. An apartment complex loomed against the backdrop of Hyrule Castle, and he trudged up the walkway and through the door without even looking at the sign. Two flights of stairs and one creaky door onto the landing later, the two stopped in front of Apartment #4. He fumbled in his pocket, then drew out something -- it was too dark for the prostitute to quite catch what it was -- and rummaged for the lock.

"You live here?" the whore whispered.

He grinned, chuckling. "Hell no. It looks unoccupied, though."

She raised an eyebrow, wonderingly. "I mentioned that a _safe_ place would be a good thing, right?"

"It's safe." The lock clicked and the door swung open. The cardsharp stuck the bobby pin back in his pocket. "For now."

The afternoon light streamed through the curtains, lighting up the apartment. It was a tiny place -- living room adjoining to kitchen adjoining to bedroom -- and there were probably about seven more apartments exactly like this one within this building. The prostitute followed the young man deeper within the house until they reached the bedroom. He turned to face her, blushing a little as he sat on the bed.

"Damn, how cliché," he remarked offhandedly, leaning back onto the mattress. "I'm sitting in a bedroom with a whore. Well, I guess not very many get this kind of luxury," he added, then sat up again.

The girl remained unmoved as she leaned against the wall. "How much did you see?"

He studied her, his expression critical, and for a long while he said nothing. At last, "You don't like beating around the bush, do you?" He thought about this for a while, then blushed. "Crap, that was a bad pun. They just keep coming. … There was another one. Dammit." He began to laugh, in spite of himself. The whore stared at him impassively, both her eyebrows raised.

"Did you break into this house just to crack jokes about me?" she inquired frigidly.

"Oh, absolutely. I do this all the time, can't you tell?" His laughter trailed off, and he cleared his eyes of their mirthful tears. "No… I'm sorry, I really am. I'm not used to talking to whores, you see." He went on, more seriously now. "I saw you turn into a crow and fly away… following the road. It's really not safe to do that, you know. Why did you do it? Surely you know about the Ubiquitous."

Her nostrils flared slightly. "I preferto be referred to as a prostitute, thank you. And no one would have sent me out walking if I didn't know about _them_. What kind of an establishment do you think I belong to?"

"Oh… I didn't realize that you were actually hired by an establishment." His voice was soft, but there was a hint of poison beneath. "I thought you were just another one of those Academy girls who winds up faced with a tuition larger than she can pay. Funny how the Goddesses don't seem to care about them, isn't it?"

The whore rolled her eyes. "I didn't come here for morality talks, and I'm not some university prig. If I didn't know better, I would think you were a Ubiquitous yourself."

This surprised the gambler a little. "How do you know I'm not?" he asked curiously.

"I don't." The prostitute looked surprised at her own answer, a thing which she apparently didn't like. She rebutted hard and fast. "Just how long have _you_ been in Hyrule City, mister? Seems to me that I should be asking you that question. Blithering on about Academy girls… you'd think you'd be used to what happens here by now." She peered at him closely, gauging his reply.

"No, not really." He shrugged. "I've lived here nearly all my life… except during the dark times, of course, when Ganon was in power. But it just never fails to surprise me. I guess I thought by your bearing that you might have the same opinions…"

"My _bearing?"_ she asked disdainfully, as though he had criticized her.

"You don't walk like a tramp," he said simply, and then, at her scandalized glance, "_Prostitute_! All right, all right! Sorry… geez." He searched again for his misplaced thought. "You don't seem like the kind of woman who's been beaten down by anything. You look like you're ready and willing to take on the world… and capable of doing it, for that matter. But don't tell me that's all a façade. There's anger in it too, and I can see it. Especially when I call you a whore." He grinned, but his eyes were serious. "I'm not blind."

As he had spoken, her disdain had begun to filter away, bit by bit, leaving her with an inscrutable look on her face. She sat down on the bed and pulled one knee up to her chest, looking at him with an air of surprise.

"Who _are_ you, anyhow?" she asked.

He smiled. "They call me Cardsharp. Or other things, but I'd prefer not to go into that." He saw her look of recognition and grinned. "You've heard of me, I take it?"

"Heard of you? You're only the most famous con artist in the whole city… and the most unbearably self-righteous, to boot, if the rumors are right." She chuckled derisively. "I guess I can see where they got that one. Is it true you've never been caught cheating or seen drinking?"

"My reputation precedes me," he said grandly, and laughed. "I don't drink. Or cheat, for that matter, but I guess that depends on what you call cheating… which brings me back to your little feathered display…" He nodded to her. "By the way, I didn't happen to catch your name."

She shrugged. "I've always been able to do it -- transform, that is. It serves me well, as you can imagine. And I only tell my name to people who will scream it later."

She rather enjoyed the brief shock on his face at her vulgar suggestions. "Well…" he said slowly after it had worn off, "I have to call you something, don't I? Don't you have a name -- besides the one your customers call you, that is?"

Her expression grew closed very quickly. "I have no one I would tell it to," she said pointedly, her voice like acid, "and there is nothing in that name for me anymore." Her eyes dared him to inquire further.

Cardsharp considered inquiring further anyhow. His eyes traced the pattern of the bedspread they were sitting on, flickered up to meet her scowl. "I think I'll call you Meryl," he decided.

"Meryl?"

"It means blackbird or raven in some ancient language, I've forgotten… and I expect Raven is what they usually call you," he said languidly. She stood stock still.

"How did you know?" she hissed. He half-smiled at his luck, happy to have given her a shock for a change with that.

"I didn't."

Meryl appeared to be mulling this over, and the statement, miraculously, quieted her attitude a little. She turned so that she could sit, tailor-fashion, on the bed, and leaned on an elbow, thinking about the unasked question which she had refused to answer.

"I've always had these powers," she said, her voice quiet with remembrance. "They were passed down to me from both sides of my family. My father was Gerudo… they said he had been descended from an ancient sage. But I was raised by my mother, until I was around ten. She was a Sheikah… and so I'm part Sheikah, too." She laughed a little. "Ironic, isn't it? My mother's line began as guardians of royals and nobles, and here I am today… but I have no regrets."

"But why did you fly with the roads?" Cardsharp pressed on. "Why didn't you try and fly like a crow would?"

She shrugged. "You want the truth? I got scared. I haven't been out for quite a while, and I could tell that guy was following me… I was spooked pretty bad. It took me longer to change, too, because of that. I'm not ordinarily that slow."

Her eyes dared him to doubt this, and, once again, he was severely tempted. She could tell by the grin. Somewhat reluctantly, she allowed the glare to slide off her face. Feeling strange without it, she continued by unlacing one side of her bodice.

Cardsharp averted his eyes. "Um…? Did you miss the part where I said, thank you, no?" he inquired, but she couldn't miss the blush on his face.

She snorted. "Did _you_ miss the part where I said no freebies, you perv?" She socked him in the arm, then laced her bodice up again. He turned his head as she did so to look at the strange object which she had drawn out.

"What is it?" It looked like only a wooden block.

She responded by opening it. He gave a low whistle. What had appeared to be a rough, unfinished plank was actually the back of a triptych. The device was missing two of its panels, the left and center, but upon the right, an intricate etching of a raven took flight amidst swirling patterns adrift with the Eye of Truth.

"Spiffy," he remarked, and she closed it and put it away.

"It was my mother's… passed down in my family," she said. "I never knew what happened to her, or my sister… this, and a flute I have here --" she motioned to her hair, which was braided and put up, stuck through with what he assumed were pins but which now, on closer inspection, proved to have keys -- "are all I have to remember them by. But, like I said," she shrugged, "no regrets."

"Amen," he said softly. There was a restful silence. The tide of light coming through the window waxed and waned as the two wondered what else there was to say.

"Now what?" Cardsharp wondered to himself, then turned to Meryl. "Do you have someplace safe to go? I mean, now that that guy's after you? I don't think he'll wind up giving up very easily."

Meryl nodded. "I do. Why, were you offering?" She smiled slyly.

"_No._" Only posthumously did he realize that she was joking. He grinned sheepishly, averting his eyes. "Actually… I was wondering if this place of yours might have room for me. I don't exactly have access to the best of accommodations… generally, I keep clear of trouble with the Ubiquitous, but today that wasn't exactly an option for me. They'll easily find me if I sleep in an alley tonight -- I need to lie low for a while."

Meryl nodded again, lying back on the bed and thinking. "You know… you were right. About the U., I mean. Everyone's favorite group of overreligious housewives…"

"If they were all overreligious housewives, you and I would have nothing to fear." Cardsharp smiled, and something like a reciprocation twitched about Meryl's lips as well. He shrugged. "I'm not usually one to complain, though. I guess seeing you and that guy brought some of that indignation back."

Meryl nodded. "You were right, though."

He sighed, hunching over slightly inside his coat. "All that repression for Goddesses that they can't even prove exist."

"You don't believe in the Goddesses?"

Cardsharp chuckled. "Don't tell me faith is common among prostitutes. Call me an agnostic. I don't want to serve Goddesses who tell me I can't even play solitaire without roasting forever in an alternate dimension." He sighed. "And now they're poised to topple what's left of the monarchy, too…"

Meryl's eyes widened in shock, and she sat up. "…No! Why… what makes you think that? Impa is still here!"

"Regent Impa won't be there for long. The Ubiquitous won't be satisfied with small-scale repression… my guess is they've already infiltrated the Royal Guard with their people." Cardsharp shrugged. "It's only a matter of time, really, unless the Queen or Link comes back."

Meryl thought this over, then nodded. "The only people Hyrule would trust to govern this new hysteria… I see what you mean." She got up and walked to the window, hips swaying gently with her steps as she squinted into the afternoon sun. The swell of its light made the pause even more pregnant.

"You can come with me to the safehouse, if you want," Meryl said finally. "It's not too far across town. Although I can't say what kind of reception you'll get…" She smiled wickedly at him. "Not all of my coworkers are quite as … inhibited as I am. If they catch wind that you're actually Cardsharp, I won't vouch for how many people will be in bed with you when you wake up tomorrow morning…" Her smile broadened at his look of faint discomfort, but the suggestion was broken by a distant, drawn-out squeak. Cardsharp bolted up from the bed as if it had burned him. For a moment, they were both silent again…

"The door to the landing," Cardsharp breathed, glancing about for an exit. Save the window, there was none.

"What are you waiting for?" Meryl spat, and, reaching into her bodice, she flung a small object onto the ground too quickly for the eye to follow. In one blinding flash of light, she was a raven again.

Cardsharp stared as she pecked at the window, then froze as he heard the doorknob turning. A muffled "what the…?" from the apartment's owner caught his ear. He had left the door unlocked.

"Dammit!" He threw the window open and the raven, without sparing a backward glance, bolted out. He glanced down. "Now what'm I supposed to do…?" He looked around for the prostitute, but she was nowhere to be found. He rolled his eyes. "…Thanks, Mer'."

The young man spared a glance over his shoulder. Footsteps were coming closer, he could hear them as they echoed on the wood floor of the kitchen, and then…

"Nothing for it…" He placed a foot on the windowsill and vaulted himself into the air.

It took a surprisingly short time to reach the cobblestones from two stories above ground, the interval only leaving him enough time to think, "Holy Farore, how stupid _was_ that?" before landing. His left leg crumpled under him; as he landed, the air was released from his body in a single burst as his head hit the street. Numb with pain, the surroundings dancing a reel around his befuddled eyes, he dimly observed a crow wheeling overhead, blotting out the sun… and, as his face turned to the gathering crowd, a familiar-looking man dressed in blue. The man smirked. _Dammit, not again,_ was his last thought as the crowd swept over him and he plummeted into unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 4: Hit and Run

"…How's he look as far as concussions?"

"Negative."

__

That's a good thing. Cardsharp worked to keep from grimacing. He had no idea where he was… best to lie low for a while. But, Din, that _hurt…_

"What about cranial fractures?" the nurse's voice came again, and Cardsharp was aware of fingers being drawn away from his head. He hadn't realized he was being examined…

"Looks like a negative there."

"And what's the status on the break?"

A short cough which seemed to vibrate all throughout his aching head. "Looks like multiple greenstick fractures to the upper femur, same to the hip. I'd say get a chemist or he'll have a slow time of it. Best to do it before he wakes."

There was the sound of a pencil scratching and then busied footsteps - he thought perhaps both of them had left, although he wasn't sure. Nonetheless, he allowed the cold sweat to break out on his forehead. A _chemist!_ How on earth was he supposed to pay for that, on top of official exams? Impossible…

__

What an unglamorous way to be screwed over. Doctor bills. He made some ill-informed effort to move, and the pain shot up his spine in an agonizing wave. He bit back a scream and moaned through clenched teeth. Multiple hip fractures, the doctor had said? Cardsharp had a sinking feeling he was right.

Another hurried pair of footsteps stopped outside the door - to read the nameplate, he guessed, though what they had put there he had no idea - then came inside. The heavy door to Cardsharp's room shut with a sharp slam and the click of a lock. He lay still, trying his utmost not to look as tense and pain-filled as he felt.

The chemist was silent for a long while; there was the sound of a bottle being uncorked, and a glassy tinkle and clink, like the tinkle of a swizzle stick against glass. The chemist's hand went down over the break. Cardsharp jerked irreconcilably and bit back another yell. _Farore, there is no way he could have not felt that…_But apparently he hadn't.

He felt a momentary wetness against his hip and thigh, soon fading away to be replaced by a tingling feeling that enclosed his bones, and a sudden, unmerciful itching; the sensation grew to resemble pins and needles, and then faded away to nothing - no pain at all. A pause, and then fingers immersed in some sort of liquid drenched his temples, producing the same tingling before disappearing, taking his lingering headache with it. The boy wanted to cheer. Instead, he kept his eyes still shut, waiting for the man to leave. Clearly, an escape attempt was in order.

The chemist's footsteps trailed away - but they stopped before reaching the door. There was the faint _whoosh_ of fabric dragging on fabric once more, and then the chemist came back to Cardsharp's bedside. There was a pause. _What the hell is he doing…? _Then, with fearful suddenness, he couldn't breathe. His eyes flew open - whiteness filled his vision. "Frmrph!" he cursed. Gauging carefully, he kicked out and was rewarded with an organic thump, a muffled groan. The young man threw the pillow off of his face and beheld his assaulter, clad in a chemist's long white coat, clutching his stomach.

Cardsharp scrambled to his feet, groping for his cards, but he realized suddenly that his coat had been taken off. "Oh, you bastard!" he yelled in frustration, and the doctor looked up. He swung at the man, fist connecting with chin, and laughed, partly in astonishment at his own violence. Sidestepping his assailant, and getting punched in the gut for his trouble, Cardsharp clutched his stomach, pushing away one fist aimed at his faced and the other hand as it reached for him. He glanced towards the attacker, realizing the open shot, and before the offender's arms could pin his own to his sides, he rammed one fist into the man's throat.

The gambler slipped away to cross the room, where he retrieved his coat and slipped it on. "And, by the way," he said as he struggled with a sleeve, "if I call out 'you bastard,' it's probably not much of a compliment to yourself if you look up." He smiled, then frowned abruptly. The man, recovering, had reached into his own pocket and pulled out a knife. He was advancing quickly.

For once in his life, Cardsharp was out of ideas.

__

Dammit, this is not _a great way to die! _he hissed at himself, backing into the coat rack and knocking it over, then remembering his own pocketknife and drawing it hurriedly out. The man lunged, and he let out a gasp as he stepped backward and -

__

Farore, you IDIOT - how could you trip_ over the _coat rack_ Goddesses we're gonna die_ as the floor loomed up to meet him, the dagger and his assailant falling atop him, and he was stabbing blindly, trying to stop the distance between them from closing, frantically warding death as the pocketknife miraculously hit the junction of blade and handle and turned aside one lethal stroke, and remained upright as the man came down atop him. The assailant's dagger had turned to the side, and suddenly Cardsharp was face to face with the man who had tried to strangle him while he slept - he was quite ordinary. Black hair and stubble on his jaw, tan, pouchy face, now all drenched in sweat, with eyes a muddy hazel clouded with a franticness matching his own, or was it… pain?

There was a wetness on his stomach. A hand twitched against him. The man's weight was crushing the breath from Cardsharp's body; his lips moved, but no sound came. Again the hand moved, the hand which clutched the knife, and the younger man could feel a warm, drenching liquid spread across him and trickle down to his sides to pool on the floor.

"C- could you… move a little, please?" Cardsharp whimpered as even more of the man's weight seemed to collapse onto him. The muddy hazel eyes shifted their focus, and something in the man seemed to rally to anger. "Guess that's a … no," Cardsharp whispered, and, drawing as great a breath as possible, pushed against the man with all his might.

Another gush of warm liquid came, but after several long seconds strained agonizingly by, the man's body lifted a fraction of an inch and the gambler was free, rolling out and clutching his ribs. "Holy… Nayru…" He glanced toward the man. "What… the _hells_… do you _eat?_ …Bricks, or what?" Taking in a few more shuddering breaths, the young man sighed, glanced down at himself and froze in horror. His eyes grew wide as he saw the dark red stain of blood, all over his clothes, his jacket, the hand which clutched his pocketknife, trailing across the floor…

He dropped the knife. "G…g…" _How weird,_ he thought in some strange part of himself, _have I ever really been speechless before?_ The clatter of the weapon on the floor, the shuddering sigh of the other man, all registered but distantly. Deafening silence.

He tried again, and found, to his relief, his voice - cracking like a preteen's, but at least _there_. "What've I done…?"

At last, after he seemed to sit and stare at his bloodsoaked self for hours (he could not bring himself to follow the trail towards the dead man where he lay), a distant sound drew his attention. At the window was a bird the color of midnight, pecking like mad at the glass. It took him a few more moments to register who it truly was, but then he gladly stood on shaking knees. Numbly, he walked to the window and opened it, distinctly relieved for the company.

As Meryl appeared in front of him, Cardsharp sat down abruptly on the floor, quite literally unable to stand any longer for the trembling in his limbs.

"Now what do we do?" he asked, just as Meryl erupted, "What did you _do?_"

He sighed, ducking his head. "I have no idea at all. He tried to strangle me, so I punched him, so he pulled out a knife, and then _I_ pulled out _my_ knife… and then…" Shaking his head, he ran a hand through his bangs in sudden frustration. "Oh, what the hells does it matter! Just…" He shook his head, looking up at her hopefully. "Fix it?"

She studied him for a moment, all soaked in blood on the floor like some morbid child, staring at her comically, and allowed herself a small smile. "Oh, get up from there! Pull yourself together. See, you're already joking about it."

As Cardsharp got up, Meryl surveyed the room. The only door into the hallway had been closed and locked, fortunately, by the chemist who had attempted to murder Cardsharp. Other than that, the room was an average hospital room. There were two beds, one of which had been slept in, the other in order except for a missing pillow. Meryl peeked over the side of the bed - yes, the missing pillow was there, apparently flung there after Cardsharp had become aware of his assailant's attempt on his life. An adjoining room hosted a small fountain which emptied into a pool useful for bathing patients or washing one's hands, a removable wall receptacle which smelled disgusting and was obviously used for toilet purposes, and a cabinet which proved to be full of antiseptic ointments and cleaning supplies.

"Bingo," she whispered, and turned back to Cardsharp. "Okay, bring the body in here and take off your bloodstained clothes. I have a plan."

"But -" He looked down at himself with anxiety, then back up at Meryl.

"Just _do_ it! Geez, do you want to get out of here or not? I know what I'm doing and whatever you're worried about, I've seen it before," she snapped.

He grinned meekly and peeled off his damp jacket, handing it to her. "Yessum." After adding his shirt to the pile in Meryl's hands, he went off to the main room to retrieve the doctor's body, throwing his pants after him only once he had disappeared around the corner. She rolled her eyes at his shyness. "I've seen it all before, you know," she yelled to him as a staccato dragging sound began in the next room. "You _sure _you don't want your boxers-slash-briefs washed?"

"_No._" He poked his head around the corner and grinned teasingly. "You only wish you could see what you're missing."

She shook her head, biting back a giggle before bending down to retrieve the ammonia and vinegar she needed from the cabinet. Emptying a spray bottle full of tile grout remover into the fountain for disposal, she opened the bottles and added a little of each ingredient. As she added liquid hand soap to the mixture and swilled it with her free hand, the chemist's head and shoulders slid slowly through the doorway. She set the bottle down and went to assist Cardsharp, who had modestly wrapped a pillowcase around his lower body, with dragging the man into the room, raising an eyebrow as she saw the trail of blood leading across the floor from where he had lain. Perhaps she had gotten the virtuous gambler wrong, after all; he had done quite a number on this man, although at first glance how he could have survived the streets of Hyrule had been beyond her.

"His clothes come off, too," she said matter-of-factly, and then, laughing a little at Cardsharp's disgusted look, "Not his underthings, relax… but his uniform, that's what we need."

The gambler blinked and held up his hands. "Wait, hold up. You want _me_ to pass for a _chemist_?"

Meryl looked at him skeptically. "I know, I know. You think it's the dumbest thing you've ever heard. Let me put it to you this way: do you have any better ideas?"

Cardsharp sighed in answer and knelt next to the corpse, grimacing with distaste. Meryl smiled and began to pretreat the clothing that he had already given her. As she was submerging his shirt, he approached her, bearing a wad of red-stained white clothing. "Whatcha doin'?" he asked idly.

"Removing the stains with some common cleaning solutions," she said softly, placing the bloody portion of the shirt into the fountain's stream, then wringing it out, snapping it sharply through the air to remove the wrinkles and placing it on the door of the cabinet. "It'll take a little while to dry, but I'm sure there'll be something to help with that here, too."

Cardsharp had opened the bottle to scrutinize the contents, and was now standing with it held at arm's length and a horrified expression on his face. "Din, that _smells… _what'd you put in it?"

"Hand soap, ammonia and vinegar, but what's it to you?" she inquired sharply, taking the bottle back and setting to work on his jacket.

He smiled and walked to the cupboard, rummaging for materials to clean the blood from the floor while she worked. "Lucky me. I off a guy by mistake, and expert housewives save me via the laundry. How did I get those odds?"

Meryl shrugged. "Spot cleaning runs in the business, I suppose."

Cardsharp stared, then laughed. "Now I _know_ you've been hanging around me too long," he remarked, and was rewarded, to his surprise, by an actual chuckle from Meryl.

Amazingly, the escape itself went rather smoothly. After laboriously cleaning up everything, stowing the chemist in the cabinet, dressing himself in the man's still-damp clothes, and completing the disguise by seating Meryl in a wheelchair and draping her with a blanket, the false chemist wheeled his patient out the door, and that was that. Meryl and Cardsharp sprinted to a back alley, where they quickly rid themselves of their props, tossing them haphazardly on a nearby dumpster.

Cardsharp flopped down atop a junk heap, closing his eyes and breathing a heavy sigh that made his shaggy bangs jump a bit in surprise. "Finally. I can't believe that was as easy as it sounded."

Meryl snorted, grabbing him by the arm and unceremoniously hauling him to his feet, despite his protestations. "Yeah, right, buster. Have you forgotten? We've got to get to the brothel, and faster than ever now. If they find even the slightest trace that that doctor's gone, we may well be implicated if they're careful enough record keepers, and we both have enough crimes to our name already - no need to add something as serious as murder," she added, with a sobering flash in her eyes. The gambler shifted uncomfortably, a flush rising to his cheeks. He had almost forgotten…

For a moment, pain and guilt dominated his expression; then, just as easily, he shrugged, all care put away for the moment, and flashed a grin just as cheery as before. "Yep, you're right. Lead the way, Mer'!"

"You should only call me a mare if you're planning to ride me, silly," she said, a poisonous, seductive grin parting her lips, and when she saw the indecision as to whether he should be disturbed or amused by her rebuttal, she laughed aloud. The sound broke the ice, and their laughter echoed through the damp alleyways and into the street as they turned a corner.

"Well, Meryl's a long name," Cardsharp pouted at her playfully.

"What d'you want from me - I didn't pick it!" she said indignantly, still grinning. "And Cardsharp's longer, anyway! Were your parents taking forest mushrooms, or what?"

"Aww! I made that up myself!" he said, feigning offense and covering with his usual smile. "If you really hate it, you can call me Sharp for short or something. I won't mind - I'm not all _touchy_ about these things, like _you_."

He was laughing and dodging a punch from Meryl when a faint melody in the distance began to grow louder. The grin froze on his face as he stopped, looking after it. A drumbeat was speeding up tempo as a hurdy-gurdy's meandering, gypsy shriek bawled out a howling tapestry of a melody; violin and cello meandered in and out in glorious bursts of noise, and the song finished in two ascending screeches that drew tumultuous applause from the faraway crowd. Songs outside, gypsy songs, ballads and drums and…

Recognition dawned in his eyes. He had heard that song before…

"Come on!" he yelled at Meryl, suddenly elated, and ran towards the noise of the cheering crowd, leaving her behind to stare confusedly at him as he darted through the streets.

"Sharp? Hey, Sharp, wait up!"


	6. Chapter 5: Song and Dance

Sharp didn't stop. He ran through the streets at breakneck speed, skidding to a stop and narrowly avoiding knocking into the tightly packed huddle of people on the street corner. Impatient, he shoved through the crowd, forcing his way through the indignant murmuring sea; when Meryl emerged from the alleyway at last, the last she saw of him was a silver ponytail disappearing amongst the onlooker's heads. She shook her head and grumbled to herself, cursing the silly creature she was chasing and her thigh-high boots for being so ill-suited to the job, before diving in herself.

"What in Nayru's name is going on, you -" she began to explode when she had reached his side, but he silenced her with a wave of his hand. His green eyes glinted in wonder as he nodded toward the corner. She followed his glance - alone on the corner a girl was standing. She had short black hair which framed a small, good-natured face. The girl's eyes were elongated and almond-shaped, altogether different from any Hylian she had ever seen; combined with her short, turned-up nose and a mouth that seemed perpetually smiling, she appeared altogether fairylike, a strange but thoroughly benevolent and joyous form of life. She wore a headband from which a red pom-pom floated in midair, a smart blouse and a pleated skirt with a sweater tied over it - the uniform of a University student.

The strange girl bowed to the crowd, and from the restaurant situated behind her, the sound of a bow being drawn across strings prompted her to action; she drew up and seemed to vibrate with the sound, as though she were a string herself, and arched her back, reaching one arm skyward while the other descended gracefully along an outstretched leg. It was then that Meryl caught sight of the wings upon the girl's back: tiny and draconic, they were arched now like the rest of her, ready and waiting for their cue. Meryl caught her breath - this girl was strange, strange beyond all reckoning… she had never seen any race in Hyrule like her.

"Who - What…" she began, but again the cardsharp simply lifted a finger to his lips and went on watching, with the expectant eyes of someone awaiting a miracle. His gaze did not leave the girl for a second.

At that moment, from the interior of the restaurant a melody began, harp strings quietly plucking out a melody as the girl tensed and released, one arm reaching upward to join the other, then spreading her arms as she delicately stepped forward, entire body fluid. Cello and bass, then viola, and at last violin mingled their notes with the prologue; the audience was hush, the anticipation palpable, and at last the music burst free in a quick and deft melody which raced along like a dancing flame. The dark-haired foreign girl abandoned herself to the music utterly, her feet tapping out an alien pattern, her arms weaving and intertwining with the air. Raw spirit and raw energy flanked her with the music as she spun and whirled, her graceful, light body spiraling around and outwards as she traversed the circle of bystanders in leaps and bounds, captivated by the passion of the music, ever and effortlessly constrained to the rhythm.

As the crowd's enchantment grew, the tune checked itself to a more complex pattern, and the dancer reacted in kind by spreading her arms, as though to encompass the entire throng of bystanders, and letting her feet beat out an intricate dance of their own between her turns. Murmured exclamations were given; a girl standing behind Sharp and Meryl whispered, "This is her best dance yet!" Meryl's eyes were wide; she had been to the Gerudo Valley, where dancing and grace were a way of life, but this girl topped them all, easily. But such considerations were left for later - the music built to a great and sweeping crescendo, and the girl leapt forward, utterly immersed in the drama and life it imparted, moving on to a series of steps and movements which seemed to grab hold of the bliss within her and fling it helter-skelter into the crowd as the dance became wilder.

She leaned back and arced her arms around as though to trace the path of her wings; in the next moment she had sprung up like a wild crane, to spin through the air and land, gracefully sidestepping, eyes intense and movements full of a softened chaos. Her arms twirled upward toward the heavens as she turned, clenched her fingers into fists which she drew to her chest, and gazed with sudden import at the audience, as if to ask if they felt the potency of this moment as much as she.

And the music changed once more; the violin screeching higher, the key changing, the girl darted forward through the air, landing and pounding out again the complex and energetic rhythm of the dance, raising her arms slowly, slowly as the energy built, until they were directly above her head. The crowd gasped in awe as her feet lifted from the pavement - she was free, the deva of dance was free, free of gravity and all bounds of the world, and as the music leapt toward conclusion her movements seemed to encompass all of Hyrule, she leapt through the air with a wild and formless grace, a dancing flame which suddenly drove downwards into the ground like lightning, arms out, face flushed, and shining eyes full of the victory.

The crowd took several seconds to catch its breath and come down from the glorious high which had enveloped them; the cheers were so loud that they might have broken Meryl's eardrums, had she not been screaming herself hoarse with them. Sharp looked at her in surprise, his eyes dancing a dance of their own. "You liked it, I take it?" he observed wryly. Meryl grinned and punched him in the arm in response, still watching the girl as took off the sweater she had tied around her waist and placed it on the ground, kneeling down to gather the rupees that the crowd had showered her with.

"Who _is _she, Sharp?" Meryl asked. "She doesn't look Hylian at all. No race of ours could dance like _that_."

Sharp smiled a little. "She's not from around here. I was never too sure myself where she came from. One time she told me she washed up on the shores of Lake Hylia; another time she told me the lake scientist _made_ her… out of what I don't know." He shrugged. "Really, I'm not sure she knows herself what she is… but she doesn't seem to mind, does she?" He sent a teasing grin at Meryl, who seemed discomfited by the idea of having no heritage, no race to call one's own.

Meryl continued to watch the girl as she digested the story; the dancer had straightened from her collection and held the makeshift rupee bag with tight knuckles as two men approached her. She spoke with them momentarily, her posture taut, their voices indistinct, rapid mutters; then one of them took a step toward her, reaching for her. She smacked his hand away, dark eyes flashing in anger as the other drew in -

Meryl's curt tone froze the entire tableau. "Oh, get the hell away from her, you pigs!" she snapped, stepping toward them with a fist raised, a formidable picture in her black leather. "If you need to go bother some broad that bad, go find a working girl. And stop looking at me like that, I'm off duty," she added scathingly. The pair fidgeted, but stood firm against Meryl's forbidding glare, not quite sure they wanted to run off yet. A voice interrupted the staring match.

"Blackjack…?" the dancer breathed incredulously.

Cardsharp's smile was wide. "Gwenna!" As a smile broke out over the girl's face, they rushed into each other's arms. This proved to be the last straw for the would-be assaulters - they took the opportunity as a convenient sign to scuttle away. "Goddesses, I thought I would never see you again!"

"Ever sorry to disappoint," she smiled, pulling back to look at him better. "But goodness, Jack, what've you been up to? I thought you'd come visit me every once in a while… we haven't moved still, Dad still has the cabin at the Lake…"

Cardsharp chuckled. "All the way to Hylia just to see you? Great as you are, Gwen, us poor kids can't afford a trip like that." Glancing around quickly, he ducked his head and added, "and don't call me Blackjack anymore. My name's Cardsharp from now on, got it?"

"But… why…" Gwen's words died on her lips as Meryl cleared her throat, impatient to reclaim her part in the dialogue. Gwen flushed a little. "I'm sorry… I haven't been introduced to your friend, Jack."

"Sharp!" he hissed, then nodded his head informally as the prostitute approached. "This's Meryl, met her a couple of hours ago, and she's already gotten me out of a bit of a tight spot."

"She must have a knack for it," Gwen smiled, her slender eyes only briefly taking in Meryl's revealing costume before shaking her hand. "Thank you, by the way - although it was nothing serious. Those guys always hang around - it's pathetic, no appreciation for art in the slightest." Her smile was joyous, though, and Meryl, despite her instinctive rebellion, felt herself warming to the girl. Gwenna was too friendly to dislike for long.

"Your dancing's incredible," Meryl said, awe still lingering in her tone. "You've not studied it formally, have you? I've never seen anyone dance like that."

"Have _you_ studied dancing formally, then?" Gwenna breathed, her eyes glowing in zeal. "I would love to, but Father is…" She trailed off.

"No, unfortunately… But believe me, from what I've seen of Gerudo dancing, they have nothing on you."

"Of course," interceded a smooth voice suddenly. "Only the Goddesses are capable of granting such a talent."

A man, dressed in blue from head to toe, had appeared, and was now striding toward the three of them.


	7. Chapter 6: Hither and Yon

Sharp gaped. "You…" he whispered, taking a step backwards, gaze fixed on the mystery man. "You're the one who … No," he amended himself, eyes growing wider, "You were there… after I fell from that building."

"A stupid blunder, one which will cost you much before this is all over," said the man in blue, nodding. "But there are other and more pressing matters to worry about. You, girl," he turned suddenly, to address Gwen, who looked baffled by all this, and his eyes became slightly gentler, "your dancing is not merely dancing. You would do well to develop these powers more secretly from now on."

"Powers?" Gwen breathed, uncomprehending.

He nodded, and Sharp realized suddenly that the man's eyes, beneath the blonde tufts of his hair, were a smoldering red. "You have magic, Gwen… There is magic in your steps, as there is in Sharp's cards, and in Meryl's flying spirit. But it's not for your magic that the Ubiquitous are chasing you all now." His gaze shifted to Meryl and Sharp. "They have discovered what you have done. You must flee the city."

"Flee…?" Sharp appeared to be thinking hard. One hand was straying toward his right coat pocket. "But…"

"There is no time - _go!_ Any questions you have can wait. Flee this city and make haste toward Lake Hylia. We will meet again." With a sudden motion the man threw down a small object - there was a blinding flash, and then he was gone, as quickly as he had appeared. Sharp blinked and rubbed his eyes; when he looked up, though, everyone looked as confused as he was.

Shouts began to echo through the alleyways, reaching their ears; Sharp bit his lip, looked at the girls and grinned. "Well, you heard the man," he said cheerfully. "Let's get scurrying."

He and Gwen turned as one; behind them came a second flash of light as Meryl transformed again into a raven. She streaked off toward the city limits over their heads, and the two followed her lead, ducking right behind the Treasure Hunter's Association building as the crowd's tumult drew even closer. Gwen's eyes widened at the sight as they ran. "How does she do that, Sharp?"

Sharp shrugged, leading Gwen through a zigzag behind a souvenir stand. "How do any of us do any of it? If we knew, I guess it wouldn't be so revolting to the Ubiquitous that we can do it."

Gwen shook her head. "I just can't get over it, though. And you, you have it too …?"

"Well, of course," he panted. "What'd you think, all those rounds of Go Fish I cleaned you out on, it was all luck?" He grinned at her, then nearly fell flat on his face as Meryl streaked out of a byroad to the right, soaring past and narrowly avoiding collision with the two. He glanced down the alleyway and cursed - the Hylian Guard, less than two blocks away, were giving chase as well. He dashed past the alley full of pursuers and turned down another route, followed closely by Gwen, who was hardly breathing hard. Clearly the dancer was in far better shape than he.

Of course, the fact that she was floating, her tiny bat-like wings fluttering frantically, probably had something to do with it.

"Gwen… what're you doing?" Sharp gasped. "You'll give yourself away to them! Flying's magic, too!"

She shrugged, looking upwards as Meryl soared over a building, folding her wings and ducking into the front door. They raced through the lobby and a sea of scandalized faces and shouted commands, escaping into a staircase and plunging downwards.

"They already know about you two, right?" she said matter-of-factly, opening a side door and stepping nimbly out as she held the door for him. "I know that guy said not to let them know about what I can do, but there's really no point in keeping it concealed any longer. I've always been scrutinized for my wings, anyway… it's no crime to use them for a change, to do what _I _want to do." She looked suddenly uncomfortable.

"You _want_ to incriminate yourself with a secret society that encompasses nearly half of the Hyrulian population?" Sharp inquired, shooting her a look of penetrating concern which would have looked much more impressive had he not had such a painful stitch in his side. "Do you even understand what it's like, to be a criminal… to be outlawed? You'd go mad, Gwennie."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, _Cardsharp_," she retorted sharply, a blush rising to her cheeks as they rounded a corner. "And yes, this _is _what I want. What, you think I'd ditch you after not seeing you all this time, just so you could go and have all kinds of adventures without me… and with such interesting company, too?" She chuckled. "You've gotta be kiddin' me."

Sharp would have flushed, but his face was red enough as it was. Another alleyway and they stopped. Their destination had arrived; Meryl stood before them, fully human, facing outward into the sudden expanse which was the Hyrulian suburbs. The uncultivated field which had lay between the Castle City and what had formerly been Kakariko Village had long since been developed, the houses and establishments reaching nearly to Zora's Domain in the north, and extending south and west until Gerudo Valley was a scant afternoon's walk away from the nearest districts. Kakariko Village itself was now the Kakariko District; it was a commercial hub with an impressive amount of suburban sprawl surrounding the central bazaar, managing simultaneously to attract developers looking to build on Kakariko's still-persistent image as a refuge for family values and small-town charm, and, Sharp knew well, to play host to an impressive underground crime network of taverns featuring games of skill and chance. And, far to the south…

"Towards Lake Hylia," Sharp murmured, straightening and putting a hand to his side. The suburbs did not extend quite as far south as they did in all other directions. The other two turned to look at him, but he continued to stare off into the distance, thinking. "Let's see… following the roads would probably be stupid. I guess it's off to Hylia the direct way… no old paths or anything."

"It'll take us at least a day," Gwen observed quietly. "And it's impossible to avoid intersecting some of those roads, you realize that, right? We'll have to cross at Iron Point sometime… if they're serious about catching us, that'll be the place they'll be waiting."

"Well, we'll just have to take the risk, won't we?" Meryl shrugged.

"No other way 'round it," Sharp agreed jovially, smiling down at Gwen as they set out. "Bit of walking would do you good, though, eh? Give you a chance to get rid of those love handles and all?"

He winked, then ducked away, laughing, from her retaliatory slap. "You bum!" Gwen yelped, laughing in spite of herself. "You're as big a… a… _poophead_ as you always were! 'Love handles'… I'm a dancer, for Din's sake!"

Meryl shook her head good-naturedly at their bickering. "I should have known I wasn't the only wench you'd trouble with your flirting, you cad," she said dryly. "Shall I leave you two alone for a bit?"

Sharp was still slapping Gwen's punches away half-heartedly, but he shot a grin over her head. "Not to worry!" he called roguishly. "Old flames just die hard, that's all. Plenty left over for you once we're done."

Meryl treated him to a rare laugh for his pains. "Whatever happened to the man who was too moral to let me get away with earning a living? You certainly haven't let your crimes earlier today get to you." She smiled wickedly at him, leaning closer. "Methinks you're not all you seem, 'Sharp.' Maybe you're a little harder than you like to give out."

Sharp blanched, and slowly lowered his arms. Gwen glanced worriedly at each of them in turn; and now, suddenly, Meryl felt embarrassed. Somehow, by what she had said, the peace of the moment had been ruined, violated. She felt a sudden pang of something – it took her a moment of shock to realize. Shame? Could she truly be ashamed of herself? She had thought herself beyond that, after all this time…

Sharp seemed to pick up on her feelings, though; her need to conceal them quickly, just as quickly as they had come. He attempted a crooked grin at each of them. "It's… not really that I don't feel anything about it," he explained, some of the color coming back to his face. "But I don't really think it's necessary to dwell on it. We have better things to worry about… right?"

Still, enough of the awkward sadness lingered in his eyes that Meryl could not quite meet them. She murmured, "Forgive me. It was stupid of me to ask."

He shrugged, and with the gesture all trace of bitterness left him. "Not that stupid. Don't worry about it." He smiled at her, genuinely smiled. Relieved, she returned it quietly, feeling herself relax a bit.

They walked on in amiable silence for a bit. Gwen and Meryl chatted at length about the hospital incident and Gerudo dancing as they crested the hill leading to Iron Point. From the summit, Sharp could see the plains of Hyrule Field stretching out before him, all the way to the Point, where the three roads – to Kokiri Forest, Lon Lon Ranch, and Lake Hylia – met at an intersection marked, in the olden days, with a huge chunk of iron ore. The giant stone had been cleared away by Link himself on his historic journey to defeat Ganon, but in its place stood an obelisk bearing an inscription of Link's noble deeds. The forbidding finger still stood – but close by loomed two monstrous figures which dwarfed even its hulking shape, spears clutched in their hairy claws. Sharp stopped short, throwing out an arm to warn the others.

"Moblins!" he breathed, and, as one, they dropped to the ground. For a moment, no one spoke. Sharp glanced at Meryl, rubbing his eyes and attempting another grin. "Been a full day, hasn't it?"

"Not full enough, I guess," Gwen whispered.

Meryl frowned down at the scene below, her braids catching the wind as she hunched down. "Those Moblins aren't worried about us, though."

"Maybe because we're nothing to worry about at all, and they know it all too well?" Sharp murmured. He hated to admit it, but he was shaking. Fortunately for him, only Gwen noticed.

"Poor city boy," she chided. "Out of your element?"

"A bit," he admitted, smiling and curling his knees close to his chest.

"They're already fighting something, if you two would care to notice," Meryl whispered acerbically.

"Something?" Gwen lifted herself a little higher.

"Someone, I should say," Meryl corrected. She moved to stand. Sharp caught onto a strap from her bustier and held on tight.

"No! Are you crazy?!"

Meryl snorted. "Get a grip, Cardsharp. How do you get away with passing judgment on _my _profession's immorality, when you've got your own self to consider? Someone's already down there being ravaged by those beasts, and you'd just sit there and let it happen? It's not like you."

He blinked. "I…Well, when you put it that way…"

Sharp stood, brushing himself off. Meryl nodded grimly. "That's more like it." She turned to Gwen. "_You_ ready, then, Gwenna?"

Gwen nodded bravely, her pompom headband bouncing.

"Let's fly," said Meryl simply, and, with a flash from the Deku Seed she plucked from her bodice, she bounded gracefully into the sky, all black wings and sharp talons.

Watching her, Sharp laughed through his fear. "Bit over-dramatic, isn't she?" He glanced at Gwen. "So what do _I_ do?"

She just smiled. "Hurry up, that's what!"

And so he did. A sheer, easy rush descended as he and Gwen sprang into action, his hand straying toward his pocket as naturally as the drawing-in of a breath. Above them, Meryl circled round, something white and dripping in her talons: a Moblin eyeball, ripped from its socket. The piggish beasts roared their fury, vainly waving their spears in the air.

Above him, Gwen whirled; when she stopped, she was holding two short swords in her hands, her grip light and confident. She charged as Sharp shuffled, waiting for the moment of inner surety – _there. _He drew the top three cards – the Ace of Spades and two other black cards gleamed at him a moment before another Moblin shout of pain filled the air. One collapsed, clutching its chest, blood streaming from its mouth – but the one-eyed monster remaining fought on, stabbing dangerously close to Gwen, whose whirling blades were striking sparks and spurts of blood.

Meryl let out a raven-shriek above as Gwen dodged another lethal blow, and, again, with the shock of sudden clarity, Sharp somehow _knew_ what to do. He shuffled once, twice, and Gwen sprung back from the Moblin in a graceful pirouette, pursuing some strange new dance. He had just a moment to wonder at how absurd it all was before drawing again, nine cards this time: clubs and diamonds all, in ascending order, formed a whirling circle. Across the formation, Gwen leapt, swords spiraling – the circle glowed with an evanescent light. Meryl dove, and Sharp felt a bolt of triumph strike, like an explosion in his chest. There was a dizzying burst of energy, a great flash of burning white light like a giant bird of prey, zooming at incredible speed straight toward the monster.

Then all was still. The Moblin, a gaping cavity in its bare chest, looked down stupidly, dropping its weapon. And it too fell forward, its body consumed by green fire, there and then simply gone.

Meryl crouched on the ground, human and intact, and raised her head. "You all right?" she called to Sharp.

He nodded numbly. He had no idea what had just happened, but it was like nothing that he had ever seen before. Moved to mute stupefaction, he raised his hand and picked up the cards that dropped, each one zooming back towards him obediently; shuffling them and putting them back in his pocket, he turned to look at Gwen, who hadn't yet sheathed her swords. She looked just as awestruck as he was.

"What did we just do?" she asked in amazement, straightening shakily.

Sharp blinked. A sense of weird triumph crept up his spine.

"We… the three of us just beat two really giant monsters," he said hoarsely. A grin curved across his face. "Damn. That was pretty cool. It all came together, eh?"

"But … what about…?" Gwen looked around, and suddenly Sharp remembered too – the Moblins had been ravaging something, or, more accurately, someone. He looked for Meryl. She had been coming toward the two of them – but she had halted. A man in blue clothes, now ripped and bloodied a bit, was walking towards them. Below the swinging locks of blond hair, Sharp could see his red eyes, shining as though they contained a mystery which was impossible to fathom.

"We meet again, Cardsharp."

Sharp's eyes widened for a moment; then frustration reduced them to narrow slits. "Wait a sec… how… Who are you, anyway?"

The man, as ever, seemed unruffled. "My name is Sheik."


	8. Chapter 7: Adam and Steve?

Meryl's eyes widened in recognition. "Sheik…"

Sharp was unimpressed. "And…?" He crossed his arms, scowling and trying to look imposing. "How do you know so much about us? Why were those monsters attacking you? What do you want from us, and why are you following us around?"

Sheik blinked slowly, like a red-eyed owl. "Where to start? Let us begin in reverse order… I am following you to lighten the load of your journey, and because I believe, though our circumstances are quite different… our paths may, for the present, be the same." He hesitated, his gaze flickering over each of them in turn. "Since monster activity is at such a low peak in the kingdom, I can only assume that the moblins were an ambush, put in place to confound you… and they nearly confounded me."

The Sheikah looked awkward for a moment, almost embarrassed. "I… thank you, for your service, and apologize for concealing myself from you for so long. I assure you, my intentions are to help you in whatever way I can. Whether you trust the information I give is up to you, but my sources are sound. Will you listen?"

"I…" Sharp trailed off. He looked at Gwen, who shrugged cheerily.

"I don't see why not," she said. "He seems okay to me."

"And it can't hurt us, either way," remarked Meryl quietly. "We may as well hear him out, whatever he may say."

Sharp nodded, and turned back to the man, licking his lips nervously. "Go ahead, then. Spill the beans."

Sheik closed his eyes, as if deep in thought. His voice resumed its recitative, musical tone, each word spoken with musical preciseness, as if the simplest of statements were a poem.

"The three of you have overcome many hardships, to reach this barren plain… but the road stretches still before you. Your path will lead you now to Lake Hylia, whose blue waters flourish still, replenished by the Hero of Time. But all will not be well for you there, for yet more troubles await you. Those pious Pharisees, the Ubiquitous, hold a festival gathering upon the shore's grassy banks.

"But do not despair – their own hidden transgressions, as well as your own swift flight, may lead you yet to victory. They are not yet aware of your criminality, so take the time to search there as much as you please… you will find among their ranks a certain immoral woman, with whom you may find salvation for our kingdom, though such a jewel will come at a high price."

Sharp blinked in perplexity, casting another glance at Gwen, who had whipped out a small notebook and was jotting down what Sheik had said. _Thank Nayru,_ he thought.

Sheik blinked again, slowly and implacably. "That is all I can tell you now. Good luck, friends. We will meet again…"

"H- Hey, _wait!_" Sharp yelled, darting forward and catching Sheik's arm just before he could release the tiny Deku Nut that would allow his escape. Relaxing slowly, he found himself pinned by the dark gaze of the man's dull red eyes. Something there held him, frozen, for moments on end, some hidden thrill of recognition… he tore himself away at last, averting his gaze. "You can't just go like that," he said in frustration, glancing upwards again. "What about you, Sheik? What is it you're looking for?"

Sheik drew away at the question, almost as though the words themselves had hurt him. "I… I am searching for someone."

"Someone?" Sharp pressed, his hand straying toward his coat pocket.

Sheik nodded, with an almost-miserable air. "Someone very important. I must find them."

Sharp frowned, shuffling the cards in his pocket. "And you believe we can help you?"

Sheik glanced up. "You remind me of them," he muttered guiltily. And, before Sharp could stop him, he had whipped his arm down, and disappeared in a flash of blinding light. Sharp cursed, rubbing his eyes; then he drew a card out of his pocket. He stared through the fog of green dots on his vision to see what it read.

"King of Hearts," he muttered, sitting down on the grass as Meryl drifted toward the great obelisk. "Interesting."

"How come?" Gwen asked conversationally, seating herself next to him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sharp glanced at it again before flicking his eyes upward to meet her own. "He's looking for a man… interesting, I guess, that he wouldn't come right out and say that. But it's someone he cares for very deeply. Someone he …truly loves."

A beat. Gwen asked slowly, "So you're saying that Sheik is…?"

Sharp threw up his hands. "I'm not accusing him of being gay or anything. I'm just saying what the card says. It could well be wrong, or I could be reading it wrong, but that's what it says." Something was nagging him, but he didn't want to think on what it could be. He dropped the card into his pocket and stood. "Let's just go. Lake Hylia, like he said. Something about seeing some dame there?"

"Indeed," Meryl said quietly, drawing near like a lost shadow. Gwen quirked her head.

"What's up, Meryl?" she inquired brightly. "You look like you just went into shock or something. Did you find anything interesting over there?"

Meryl shook her head, still with the same air of wonderment. "No, it's not... Don't worry about it."

Sharp glanced at her puzzledly, then shrugged it off. "All right, then." He extended a hand to Gwen to help her up. "To Hylia we go."


End file.
